A Little Messed Up
by SNAFU Time
Summary: Tom and Jerry have some pretty messed up interactions on the show, do they not? Let us see how some of these interactions get translated when they are human. A homosexual relationship will most likely, undoubtedly happen eventually within this story, so if you do not like the idea then I suggest you do not read. Rating may change. Please read the Author's note after the story.
1. Chapter 1

**I, of course, do not own Tom and Jerry. Please read the author's note after the story.**

I have lived in the same boarding house for all seventeen years of my life. Tom has lived here for twelve years since he and his mother moved in when he was six. I was five at the time, respectively. We have known each other since he decided to push me over in the kitchen the day he moved in, but more on that later. We have a strange relationship, Tom and I. We act like we hate each other…but we don't.

My mother travels a lot in her line of business, so she is rarely around. Hell…half of the time I wonder if she even remembers I'm here. Tom's mother works irregular hours at a factory that is a whiles away, so most nights she stays with a friend who lives closer to the factory when she can't make it back to the boarding house in time before her next shift, so she is rarely around either. Well…at least our mother's remember to pay the rent. Both Tom and I have pretty much had to raise ourselves- wait, that is not true.

Let me tell you about the other tenants that live in the boarding house. First, there is Mrs. Barbara, but Tom and I call her Marb. She is definitely a colorful character. A heavy set black woman in her late forties now, she always wears the most colorful headscarves. She is the one that has pretty much raised Tom and me when our mother's couldn't, but now Tom and I have outgrown her care and even she can't keep up with us. She may have been a strict nanny, but she was at least more of a mother to me than my own. Tom acted like he hated her, since he would always get in trouble with her for breaking things when he was younger, but I know that is not true.

Two other tenants that live in the house are Spike and Tyke. Spike is a burly, large man with graying hair who lives alone with his son Tyke on the first floor next to Marb and beneath Tom and I. He's a bit of a father figure to me more than Tom, but in the end he still has his son Tyke to look after, so I can't really say that. He was a tenant before even mother and I moved in. He had been living with his wife…he was also happier back then. She had died giving birth to Tyke, after several years of them trying to get her pregnant and ever since then he has been a bit of a protective mother hen towards his son, not that anyone can really blame him though. Marb helps him every once in while with Tyke, but he usually likes to do things himself and is content to keep it that way.

Tom however, is the main character I want to talk about. Our first encounter was definitely one to remember. I already brought it up once already. The day Tom and his mother moved in, I was aware that the owners of the house, a white couple in the late twenties, was busy buzzing around with various other people moving around and helping to carry cardboard boxes into the room next to mother and I's apartment. I took the advantage of the chaos to sneak out around my mother, who was talking to another tired woman who was speaking animatedly with her hands. I snuck down the stairs and into the kitchen, somehow managing to avoid anyone else coming up or down them due to my small size. I spotted the kitchen and entered, and low and behold was Marb's baby blue cookie jar on the counter, just high enough out of reach. I remember reaching for that jar as far as my short arms could reach but to no avail. Then... I met Tom.

"Do you need help?" someone asked from behind me. I remember turning around, thinking I had gotten caught, and then realizing it was a boy that was around my age with green eyes and peculiar blue-gray hair. I swallowed my guilt and answered him.

"Yeah." I managed out and the boy came over and tried to reach the jar, but still with no such luck. Even though he was a good half- a- head taller than me, if not more, he couldn't reach it as well. We both stood back and looked at the jar. The boy seems to be deep in thought when he came up with an idea.

"I think I know how we can get the cookies." The boy said enthusiastically, and the he walked over to the cabinet, but instead of reaching for the jar again, he dropped down onto his hands and knees.

"Stand on my back and you may be able to reach the jar." He said and I walked over and did as I was told, but I still couldn't reach the prize. I got off his back and he stood up.

"Let's switch. I think that maybe because I am taller I can reach it." He said and he looked at me expectantly.

"Okay." I replied and I copied what the other boy had done before. He climbed up onto my back and he was just tall enough to reach over the edge of the counter. Unfortunately though, he was heavier than I was and one of my arms gave out and it sent us both crashing to the floor, along with the cookie jar. Cookies scattered all over the worn, flower -printed linoleum floor.

"Look what you did!" The boy yelled in a panicky voice, but then he saw the look on my face and began to laugh. I laughed along with him, still splayed out on the ground. He helped me up and introduced himself.

"By the way, I 'm Tom." He smirked and looked at me expectantly again.

"I'm Jerry." I responded. Tom reached down and picked up a cookie and ate it. I followed suit. We gathered up all the cookies and set them off to the side on the ground by the counter. We also managed to pick up all the porcelain bits from the broken cookie jar. We sat against the counter in the kitchen for a while after we finished, just happily munching on cookies, me happy to have made a friend around my age, and he just content to sit next to me. Then trouble struck when we came down to our last cookie.

"I think I should have it since I came up with the plan to get the jar." Tom dictated and snatched up the cookie off the floor.

"I don't think that's fair. We should split it." I added and grabbed the cookie from him.

"I don't think so." Tom insisted and tried to grab the cookie from me, but I held on tight. We were standing at that point, each of us holding onto one- half of the cookie and glaring at each other. Then he pushed me down to the floor in an angry huff, surprising me enough to make me let go of the cookie and then he ran out of the room. I began to tear up, not just because I lost the cookie, but because my supposed new friend had just pushed me down. I wasn't even hurt, but I still cried. My mother found me thirty minutes later still in the kitchen, sniveling in a ball against the counter.

To me, this cemented our peace and war relationship. Many instances of situations happened between us throughout the years, even going as far as him locking me out in the cold and snow until I was almost to the point of hypothermia. Then his conscience would get the best of him and he would run out to find me curled in a ball in the snow. He would have to carry me in and put me by the fire. I would wake up later to find myself huddled right beside the small hearth our boarding house has in the downstairs living room, covered up with a blanket and a pillow under my head and Tom passed out on the worn couch, his frame much too large for the poor, shabby excuse for a piece of furniture, his face contorted into one of guilt. Those were the war times. The peace times were quite a bit different. Sometimes we would sit contently on the couch next to each other, each of us propped up on an arm, in my mother and mine's apartment. It was during these times where we could talk and laugh with each other just as friends should. It was also during these times I would sometimes notice Tom out of the corner of my eye, studying me intently, his face an unreadable mask, which for him is very unusual considering he is an open book most of the time. Then he would turn back and watch the television like he hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary. I still don't know what to make of those gazes but I do know that Tom and I's relationship is complicated. Unfortunately though this was about to become a very severe understatement.

**Author's note: What did you guys think? Should I stop while I am ahead or ferry onwards? Please review with any thoughts and/or criticisms. Most chapters from this point on are going to be from a third person point -of –view and I am going to have an actual story, this was only a preface of sorts...that is, only if you think I should continue writing this fiction. Thank you for reading!**

**Also…I changed Mammy Two-Shoes name from the show to Mrs. Barbara, or Marb, in this story because technically Mammy is a derogatory name…so yeah. I did not want to offend anyone in that sense. Also if you do not know who these characters are then you can look it up on the Tom and Jerry Wiki page. Mammy's name is more- or- less likely the only name I will change, so you can look them up by name. Happy reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**It has been brought to my attention that it wasn't really clear whether or not they were human and I am here to supply that they are in fact human in this fiction. Also, I lied to those who read the author's note; I think I am going to mostly tell this story through Jerry point-of-view. Happy reading!**

I wake up to find myself staring up at the stained white ceiling of my room. I manage to sit up, but I instantly regret it when the blanket I had used the night before slips down, leaving my t-shirt clad torso open to the chilly air. I pull it all the way off my bed and wrap it around my shoulders as I get up. My feet freeze over as they touch the heavily scratched wood flooring and I shiver. I stumble into my small bathroom and let autopilot take over as I go through my morning routine. I make it over to my chest of drawers, one of the few pieces of furniture in my room, and drop the blanket onto the ground. I pull out a long sleeve shirt and a pair of severely worn jeans and quickly shed the flannel pajama bottoms and white tee. I manage to find a pair of socks and pull them on along with my fraying black shoes and grab my coat. I pass by a full length mirror on my way out of the apartment, hanging by the door and take a glance at it. My jeans pool around the tops of my shoes and my hair sticks up in short tufts around my head, still suffering from a bad case of bed-head. I walk out the door without a second glance and make my way downstairs where I can already smell the heavenly scent of bacon and cheddar-cheese scrambled eggs. I turn the corner from the stairway and through the doorway into the kitchen.

"Oh Jerry! About time you were up! Get over here and eat your breakfast before it gets cold." Marb lightly scolds, still scuttling around the kitchen. I sit down at the island counter next to Tyke, who is eating pretty voraciously for a six year old, a constant stream of babble issuing from his mouth. I ruffle his hair before a fresh plate of eggs and bacon are set in front of me and I thank Marb before I dig in. About halfway through my plate though, a familiar shuffling can be heard coming through the doorway of the kitchen.

Tom sits on the stool next to me and now the kitchen has grown considerably quieter. Tykes stream of babbling dies out and he is just eating his food silently and even Marb seems to be trying to keep it down. She sets a plate in front of Tom who manages to mumble thanks before quickly shoveling the food into his mouth. I watch him out of the corner of my eye while we eat. He definitely looks worse for wear. A baggy t-shirt hangs off his gawky frame, which is the result of skipping one too many meals. His shaggy blue-gray hair covers his eyes and sallow skin of his cheeks as he eats, his hair still in a tangle from sleep. He is gone as quickly as he came though; finishing his meal and placing the dish in the sink before heading back up the stairs. The atmosphere in the kitchen loses the tension that it once had and Tyke is once again letting off his babble and Marb is clanking around the kitchen once again.

I finish my serving and I help Marb out by cleaning up and washing the dishes. I walk out of the kitchen and plop down on the worn couch in the living room, picking up the remote to the small TV that sits off in the corner, a new acquirement that has been there for about half a year now. I can feel the warmth of the fire from the hearth glaze off of me as I flip through the channels, memories beginning to flood back to me before I am interrupted by the front door opening then slamming closed, a familiar sound of boots clunking into the living room.

"Hey Jerry!" an eager voice greets me, before plopping down onto the couch beside me. I nod at the boy who just smiles back at me before turning back to watch the TV. He hops off the couch and jumps right in front of me, blocking the television from my view.

"Oh come on Jerry! You are not seriously going to just sit there all day? We have school today!" The younger boy exclaims, attempting to get me off of my arse, and unfortunately succeeding since I am not much bigger than him. After about ten minutes of struggling between him trying to pull me up and complaining that we are going to be late and me attempting to stay on the couch I snap.

"Okay Nibbles!" I yell and stand up, Nibbles jumping up and down and pumping his fists in victory. I grab my backpack and we head out the door, running into Marb on the way out who gives Nibbles a kiss on the top of the head before we are allowed to head on our way out.

We walk in silence for a small bit, Nibbles just humming to himself and me just staring ahead, both of us trapped in our heads. I look over at Nibbles who is still humming with a glazed look in his eye as if he is daydreaming and I sigh. The kid really is hopeless.

Nibbles is only a few years younger than me, a freshman at the moment, and just so happens to live next to the boarding house with his parents. I met Nibbles when we were younger. One day, he had been unfortunate enough to wander over into the boarding house's yard while Tom had been out there. I had come out a little while later to find Tom antagonizing the poor boy by chasing him around with a plastic sword and trying to hit him in the head with it. I quickly saved Nibbles as he and Tom had come around their circle they were running in and tripped Tom, sending him face first into a puddle of mud. I had then taken Nibbles hand and led him away from Tom as hurriedly as I could before the other could get up. Since then, I had been hard pressed to get the other to detach himself from my side. I'm apparently a sort of role model to him.

Nibbles isn't much shorter than me, but since I am ridiculously so, just about anyone who stands next to us seems to dwarf us. He has a bit of dusty brown hair on top of his head that he keeps a bit too shaggy so it is always getting in his eyes. Just about all clothes he wears are too big for him, but I'm not one to talk since I have trouble finding just about anything that doesn't swallow me alive.

"Uh, Jerry…" Nibbles says all of a sudden and I look at him, then in the direction he is looking in. Sure enough, just a while away is Butch, one of Tom's "friends", and it is far too late for any evasive maneuvers so we both stand there frozen. I mentally curse myself out for not paying more attention to our surroundings. I mean even Nibbles had seen them, and he wasn't paying any attention at all. Usually I am the one that helps us avoid these situations.

Butch has us in his sights as he slinks down the sidewalk towards us, his small gang of idiots following him out from an alleyway where they had been lurking. His greasy black hair frames his black eyes, which never stray from us, always keeping the both of us in his sight as he makes his way toward us.

"Well, what do we have here?" He says as he and his two doppelgangers surround us, backing us against a brick wall.

"It looks like we have two boys here that have lost their way." He continues, slamming his palm against the brick wall next to my head. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the other two ganging up on Nibbles who is attempting to stand on his own, but beginning to crumble under the pressure of their lecherous gazes.

"Come on Butch, just let us go." I say, trying to reason even though I know that it is vain. Then I realize where we are. Butch doesn't see the look of realization in my eyes and just continues on. He shakes his head then brings his face in close until I can smell the foulness of his breath.

"You would like that, wouldn't you Mouse, but you know that we don't work like that." He breaths as he gets in closer, his mouth right next to my ear. I manage to finally make eye contact with Nibbles and he somehow manages to come to his own epiphany as to where we are. Butch takes his other hand and grips my neck and makes me face him until the only place I can look is into his beady eyes.

"You know exactly how we work and you know there is a toll for every passing." He says, but before he can bring his hand off the wall to do anything I yell.

"Now!" I yell at Nibbles. The other two had been too distracted by the potential struggle that had been about to happen that they hadn't realized when Nibbles had grabbed a whistle out of his pocket. He now blew that whistle as loudly as he could. The shrill sound pierced the air, but after a few seconds, one of Butch's followers grabbed it from him and stomped on it, effectively rendering it useless. Butch turns his full focus on me again and smirks.

"What was that? A rape whistle? Please, that was just pathetic." He says, as I attempt to reach out with my hands and fight him off, but he eventually just catches one in his mouth and bites down hard enough to break the skin, and I hiss in pain, but before anything can go any farther, a door can be heard opening and then slamming shut and the pace of footsteps as a very pissed looking Spike comes out from around the corner in a bloody apron and fists clenched, his eyes screaming bloody murder.

"What the bloody hell are you doing out here! Let go of them or be prepared to get your asses beat in and the cops called on them!" Spike barks at the delinquents. I watch as a faint glimmer of fear passes through Butch's eyes before he smirks and releases the hold he has on my neck. I manage to stay on my own two feet as I am forced to support my own weight again and glare at Butch. He glares back at me with a grin on his face before he leans in and whispers in my ear again.

"Do not think you have gotten away, little Mouse, you're only putting up chase but I will catch you." And with that he motions to his gang and they follow, vanishing around the corner, and out of sight.

**To those that actually read the author's notes I put in bold, thank you. Also thanks to **_**esmeralda kitty cat**_** for helping to convince me that I should continue this fiction! Any feedback anyone has for me I will take gladly. Happy reading!**


	3. Chapter 3 part 1

**I'm sorry if this chapter doesn't flow right. I had the idea laid out in my head, but when I went to go type it up it all went downhill pretty fast from there. **

Only after Butch had rounded the corner did Spike let concern take over his face and come rushing towards us before beckoning us inside his small butchery shop. Right now, Nibbles and I sit on worn wooden stools in the small store room that sits in front of the freezer at the back of the shop. Spike is pacing back and forth in front of us, not able to sit down after we fully told him what happened. No matter what we say or how often we tell him we are fine, he will not calm down. So now we just sit here watching him. Eventually, he does give out and collapses down onto a metal chair that was sitting off in the corner. He sits up a little straighter and rubs his hands across his face, breathing out a sigh before he starts to speak.

"Look boys…I know you are all right, it's just….I can't help but think what would have happened if I hadn't been there to save you. It just bristles me is all." He leans forward and rests his head in his hands. I stand up and Nibbles follows me as I go over and stand by him and give him a pat on his back. He looks up at me and I give him a reassuring smile. There is a look in his eyes before he sits up a little straighter and then, standing up, he pulls both Nibbles and I into a hug before regaining his rough composure.

"You're right Jerry, nothing happened and you two are fully capable of taking care of yourselves. I just get worked up is all." He starts for the entrance that will lead him back into the main part of the store before stopping and turning back around to face us.

"You two are free to play hooky today if you want and help me around the store." He says. I give him a lopsided grin and Nibbles nods vigorously and Spike gives a sigh before returning our enthusiasm with a small smile and waving for us to follow him out of the store room.

We ended up helping Spike around his shop pretty much the whole day. Nibbles helped Spike by managing the customers as they walked in, a few giving him a strange look before they carried on with their business, taking their numbers and having a seat, waiting to be called. I helped out by cleaning up the shop a bit and taking inventory. Then the time came around for Spike to close up shop. He sent us off with some pay for the work we did and a worried look. Spike had some business he had to take care of elsewhere, he said, a melancholy flash of pain shining from his eyes as he told us, and I immediately knew that he was going to the cemetery to visit his wife's grave. We waved him bye as we left the store, me giving him one last reassuring smile, which he returned, before we went on our way back towards the boarding house, the Sun setting to cast a brilliant gold on everything.

Nibbles let off a constant stream of chatter as we walked, talking about various things of no consequence, still seeming a bit stirred about what had happened earlier, though he would never admit it. He was a bit sheltered, but he could take of himself, so I didn't confront him about it. As we neared our destination, he quieted down considerably, making me look at him. He looked…distressed as I continued to watch him carefully. Then, as quickly as the look had come over him it was gone, instead replacing it with a question.

"Hey Jerry…how do you do it?" he asks me sincerely, his eyes shining a bit in the late Sun. " I mean…just how have you been able to survive all this time? No wait that came out wrong….I mean…" He struggles to get his point across, but I interrupt him, already understanding. We are in front of his house now, and we just stand there on the cracked sidewalk, both of us anticipating the answer I am going to give. I look off into the distance before I answer him, not able to look at him.

"I'm not exactly sure Nibbles…I don't have all the answers." I say and watch out of the corner of my eye as he deflates a little, but then I turn towards him and he looks up at me then starts in surprise as he sees me with a big goofy grin on my face.

"But I'll let you in on a little secret…what people say or do in the end doesn't matter to me. I simply don't care and that is enough to drive the worst away. Some of it may hurt, but in the end I am the one who is better off because I don't have a stinging remark turning sour on my tongue. I guess…I guess what I'm trying to say is… don't let broken people get to you because they want to break you too. Does that make any sense?" I cajole in one breath. Nibbles just continues to look at me in surprise, but he finally speaks.

"Jerry…that has to be the most you have said to me…ever." Then he breaks out into a wide smile. "And yeah…I think I do understand." I laugh a little before I punch the other on the arm lightly.

"You are an idiot. I'll talk to you later, okay Nibbles?" I say as I begin to walk away.

"Okay Jerry! See ya' later!" Nibbles exclaims before he runs into his house, the door slamming loudly behind him. I shake my head a little before I walk up to the boarding house and take in its' decomposing exterior. I let out a sigh. Home sweet home, I guess. I enter through the front door and I am instantly greeted by Tyke, who wraps his chubby little arms around my legs, almost sending me crashing to the ground. I greet the little guy with a ruffle on the head before I pry him off my legs and head into the kitchen to find Marb cooking chicken and rice on the stove. I lean on the doorframe for a second before she notices I am there.

"Hey hun, what you doing home so late?" She asks me, continuing her cooking.

"I was with Nibbles." I say simply. She looks at me, evaluating, before returning to what she had been doing.

"That's nice hun, that boy is a sweet as sugar, he is, but not always quite there, is he?" she says and I give a small smirk before answering.

"Not necessarily…he just likes to stay in his own world sometimes." Who can really blame him? I turn out of the kitchen and head into the living room to watch a little TV. A few minutes later and Marb calls us all into the kitchen to eat. She definitely made plenty for leftovers since the only ones here are herself, Tyke, and I. We eat the hearty meal in silence, me casting looks in the direction of the front door, waiting for Spike to come in, but he never does. About halfway through the meal I set my fork down, causing Marb to look at me.

"What's wrong Jerry? Do you not like the food?" Marb asks me, concern coloring her voice, but I just shake my head.

"Well, what is it then?" I look at her and blow out a low breath.

"Have you seen Tom at all today besides this morning?" I ask and she seems taken aback but quickly regains composure, a small, sad smile donning her features.

"You really are a sweet boy Jeremiah, worrying about Thomas like you do. I have pretty much raised you boys both since you were just tots and I have watched both of you as you have taken up new responsibilities. It's just…you seem to have fared better than Tom has. All I am saying… is it best to go messing in Tom's business? You know how he can get Jerry, and I don't want anything to happen to you, to either of you. Why do you insist?" Marb looks me right in the eye as she says this. I stand up and head towards the kitchen doorway, but as I am leaving I give Marb a reassuring smile before I make one small comment.

"Because we are friends." Then I leave the kitchen and head upstairs towards the bedrooms, but instead of going into my own apartment, I head towards Tom's at the end of the hallway. I don't even bother knocking because I know he isn't in there. I close the door behind me, and allow for a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. As soon as my eyes adjust, I can see the disarray of the room. It seems that Tom had a bit of a rage earlier. The living room is in total chaos. I make my way through the wreckage and turn down a short hallway that I know will lead me to Tom's room. I enter through the door and I am surprised to find Tom's room still intact. The bookshelves are still neatly lined with nonfiction of all sorts, the clothes are still in the hamper, and there isn't any broken glass anywhere. The only thing that is in disarray is Tom's bed, which looks like he had just been sleeping in it. Then I turn towards the sole window, the only thing that is allowing the moon to lightly illuminate the room.

**Please continue onto the next chapter. I thought this section was too long, so I broke it up into two pieces to make it more manageable. **


	4. Chapter 3 part 2

**This is the next part of the chapter, so please enjoy!**

I walk up to the window and open it, shivering lightly as a cool breeze sweeps through the bedroom. I climb out onto the window sill, balancing precariously on the ledge. I manage to shuffle my way until I find the familiar hand holds that I used to climb from time to time, back when Tom and I were younger. Really, the handholds are just the natural eroding of the brick of the house, and by scaling the short amount of wall you can make it onto a flat spot on the roof, which I know where Tom is. There is a thick rope that hangs down from the chimney that Tom and I tied there after we had a scare when one of the handholds gave out when we were climbing back down into Tom's room. I tie it around my waist before continuing any farther.

As I am climbing up the short amount of wall, the wave of a memory overtakes my senses and I am washed back to when I was ten. I had been sitting in my apartment, watching TV in my living room, when Tom had come bursting through the door, looking excited. I remember how surprised I was to see Tom acting like that…he had always been a morose type of kid. He finally got me to get up and follow him into his room, where he then proceeded to climb out the window and disappear around the side, out of sight. At first I had though he had fallen because when I looked out the window there was no sign of him, but then a second later I heard his voice coming from above me, beckoning and instructing me on how to get up onto the roof. I was soon on top of the roof along with the mischievous miscreant, who just grinned widely at me before revealing the small hoard of food he had somehow managed to sneak up there. We stayed up there all day. When we did finally come back down though, we both got a thorough scolding from Marb, who looked as worried sick as she said she felt. That spot became our secret spot that no one else knew about or could ever see. It was completely concealed from below, an overhanging ledge underneath blocked anyone's line of sight from below and it offered a relatively clear view out onto the scraggly backyard and over the high fence, over all the other, newer houses. Many days had been spent there just taking in the sky.

I finally make it up and undo the rope. I scan the small space for Tom and see him sitting on the edge with one leg dangling off, the other pulled up under his chin, his back turned towards me. I let the gentle illumination of the moon guide me as I walk over and sit down next to him, dangling both my legs off as I lean back onto my hands. We just sit there for a while in silence looking over all the houses and at the rising moon. After a while though, Tom finally speaks, breaking the trance of the setting.

"Why?" He whispers soft enough that I am not even sure I heard it. I look at him and raise my eyebrows in question. He turns his gaze on me, the moonlight making the greens of his eyes flash as he does so. The moment is tense until he repeats his question.

"Why?" He asks a bit more strongly to make sure I heard it and I shrug. This seems to make him bristle and he stands up abruptly. Here it comes.

"How the hell can you just shrug? I mean, there is no reason you have to be up here. We are not friends. If anything, we are enemies! I have come after you with a fucking plank of wood before for bloody sake! How come every time I get depressed or angry or anything you are there? It doesn't make sense! You don't make sense!" By now he is yelling, punctuating each statement with an increase in pitch, and I just stare up at him until he finishes. I give him a few seconds to breath until I answer him, looking up at the moon which has almost reached its' crest.

"Because you're not broken." I state simply and he looks at me in complete disbelief.

"What the hell do you mean, I'm not broken? I am broken! I have every right to be broken! Here I am, with no friends, a shitty life, and I live with people who fucking hate me! If anything, I am beyond broken! I have no future, no life, and no reason! Then there you are. You have tons of people that just simply adore you! There's not even a fucking reason for it! We grew up in the same circumstances and the same situation, and yet I got dealt the shitty end of the stick!" Tom shouts loud enough I begin to wonder if anyone else can hear us. This time I answer him directly after he finishes, looking him right in the face.

"Okay… you are broken." I take a small pause before continuing, "But that doesn't mean that you can assume you don't have anyone or anything. You are the one that broke yourself, but that doesn't mean you can't pick up the pieces and start again." I watch Tom carefully, gauging his reaction. He seems stunned, but then to my utter amazement he begins to laugh, his voice bellowing out into the night. He plops back down beside me as he continues to laugh and grabs me in a head lock, ruffling my hair then quickly releasing me as he regains his cool. Well, not the reaction I was expecting, but at least most of the tension in the air is gone now.

"God Jerry, that has to be the cheesiest thing I have ever heard." Tom says thoughtfully, but it just makes me snicker a little.

"Yeah…well, I did mean it. Get serious Tom, you can't always come up here and brood." I say and Tom gives me a look before he answers, continuing to look out over the backyard.

"Yeah I know… I just have some shit I'm going through right now." I let out a derisive snort at that.

"Tom, you always have some shit you're going through."

"Yeah…I know. Also…I heard what you told Nibbles earlier, nice stuff, but not totally true." Tom divulges and I give him a look.

"Yeah…I know, but we went through a lot today. He needed something to hang onto." I express and Tom nods.

"Always one to uphold the good and well, aren't you Jerry?" Tom pauses a beat but it is obvious his curiosity gets the best of him. "What do you mean, you went through a lot?" I give a small shrug before answering.

"Not a big deal…just a small scuffle is all. Spike was there, so nothing really happened." I say quickly, not wanting to burden Tom with anything he doesn't need to know. I move to cover the bite mark from earlier that is scabbed over on my arm with my hand, making it look like I am trying to fend off the cool air. Tom notices the movement.

"Man, you are an idiot. Here, take this." He says, taking off his severely worn jacket and shoving it into my hands. I put it on and then hear Tom laughing again.

"What?" I ask in annoyance, trying to figure out what is so funny.

"Oh nothing shorty…my jacket just looks like it's eating you alive. God you are tiny, how the hell do you not get eaten alive every day?" Tom guffaws out. I let out a huff.

"Not easily." I say in a tone that immediately makes Tom stop laughing and sober up.

"Look Jerry..." Tom begins, but I cut him off.

"Stop. I don't need your sympathy." I say curtly, and he shuts up. We sit in a tense silence for a while until I finally decide to take a jab at Tom.

"So…why are you all depressed now? This has been going on for about three weeks now, so something major has obviously happened, what is it?" He takes a short look at me, before lying all the way onto his back with a sigh.

"It's god damn Toodles…she broke it off with me a couple weeks ago when Butch got the nerve to ask her out finally, the bastard." He closes his eyes before continuing. "They both played me like a yo-yo. Problem is…I knew it the whole time… I was just too much of a dumbass to act. I guess that's what you do when you're smitten, huh? You act like a dumbass and then get the shit beat out of you when it all comes crashing down. I guess that's what happened to me…I was just a dumbass..." Tom finishes. I smirk and he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

"What the hell man? Here I am telling you my tale of woe and you think it's funny?" He admonishes and my smirk gets a little bigger before I answer him.

"Tom…you are a dumbass, but that reminds me…why do you hang around Butch?" I ask and the question seems to throw him though a loop.

"I don't know…I guess it's because he is one of the few people that isn't afraid to actually approach me? I mean, no matter how much of a douche he is, he has somehow put up with me all this time, so that has to count for something?" He looks at me and I look away and face towards the moon again.

"Tom, you really are a dumbass. You could make better friends than that and you know it. You must be punishing yourself by staying friends with him, or you just do it for shits and giggles, I really don't know." I manage out. I change my position so that my knees are up under my chin.

"Why do you say that?" Tom asks, sitting back up to face me. I glance over my shoulder at him before answering.

"Well…we've somehow managed to stay friends all this time, and I can promise you that I've seen you do a lot worse than what Butch has seen." Tom looks surprised, but then leans back on his hands, seeming to ponder over what I've said. We end up staying out there for the rest of the night, sitting beside each other, staring at the cresting moon in silence.

**So what do you all think is going to happen next? These next chapters I post are going to get increasingly dodgy, but hopefully once I get them typed out, all will go well. Another shout out to Esmerelda Kitty Cat for reviewing and pushing me to continue this fiction!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry about this chapter being a bit short, but I hope everyone enjoys it anyway. **

I wake up the next morning to find myself staring up at the familiar stained ceiling of my room. I keep staring up at it, more than a little disoriented, not exactly sure what is going on. I sit up, my bed squeaking underneath me, as I swing my legs over the side and stand up, my covers falling to the floor. I look down and realize I'm still wearing Tom's jacket from last night. A full hit of a musky smell emits from it, permeating my nose. I guess I just don't remember coming down from the roof I think absent mindedly as I inhale the scent and meander my way into my bathroom and strip, having the full intention of taking a shower.

I let the water run over me as I go through the motions of cleaning myself. I think back to Tom and I's conversation last night, then ponder on our relationship a bit. Well…Tom and I have always been the best of enemies. Even at our lowest, we had respect for each other and always knew when we had gone too far, even though that didn't always stop us. No matter how badly we treated each other though, we always made up in the end and established a shaky peace. Now though, it seems we have stumbled into neutral territory. We no longer have disagreements or fights like we used to, but we also don't hang around like we used to when we were younger either. It makes me a bit depressed to think about how the both of us have changed, for better or for worse, as we grew up and how our interactions have suffered for it. I guess now things will go back to how they were, with Tom only coming out of his room when food becomes an absolute necessity and me just managing by and attempting to avoid getting trampled underfoot on a daily basis. I sigh a bit at that sour thought.

After my shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and pick up my clothes and Tom's jacket off the bathroom floor and head back into my bedroom. I throw my clothes into the hamper off to the side and set the jacket on my bed. I start my way over to my chest of drawers before I realize something. The TV is on in the living room. I can hear the chatter of random people emitting from the TV and permeating through my bedroom door. What the hell? I walk into my living room, not exactly sure what to expect. What I find is well…it is definitely a surprise.

Tom is laid out on the worn couch in front of the television. His back is reclined against one of the arms, a hand absentmindedly picking at the frayed material, the remote in his other hand as he flips through the channels. He catches the movement of me coming into the room and grins at me, but I'm stunned to say the least, so I can't be to pleased to say I don't return the favor.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. Tom grins a little wider.

"Well good morning to you too princess." Tom jokes, but I am not amused.

"You didn't answer my question." I insist. Tom lets his smile fold and takes on a bit more of a somber look, a look I am a bit more accustomed too.

"Lighten up will you? I'm here because I never left last night after I carried your ass back to your room after you passed out on the roof, so a little thank you would be nice." Tom says nonchalantly, turning back towards the TV screen. I give him a careful look before I finally regain a small amount of my composure.

"Thanks." Is all I say and Tom gives me a strange look out of the corner of his eye before he turns to face me again, his eyes appraising. It then dons on me that I am in only a towel and I can feel a slight blush creep up my neck. Tom notices, to my complete humiliation.

"Getting a little flustered there? Go get dressed then." Tom says with a wide smirk on his face, his eyes never leaving me. I turn stiffly out of the room and back into my bedroom. Once my door is closed behind me, I let out a gush of air I hadn't even realized I had been holding onto. I quickly get dressed in my almost uniform baggy blue jeans and long sleeved brown shirt before I exit my room, surprised once again to find that Tom has turned off the TV and is now standing by the door. He opens it with a great flourish and stands to the side so that I can pass.

"After you." He says with a devious grin on his face and I pass through the doorway, anxiety already causing my stomach to join a carnival. Today is going to be a long day.

**If anyone sees any problems regarding this chapter, please tell me. I keep looking over it, and it just doesn't seem to flow right, but I can't quite place what is off about it. This chapter was short for the mere reason that the next chapter, I fear, is going to be quite long and will more than likely be broken up into parts. Happy reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Sorry I took so long with getting this chapter up, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. (Also, sorry if it does not read well, the characters are acting a bit off and I'm pretty sure I didn't do them justice.)**

"Tom, where are we going?" I ask in annoyance as we tromp along the leaf riddled sidewalk away from the boarding house. It was funny. When we passed down the stairs and into the kitchen, Marb had just about dropped her cup of coffee in shock. She looked as if she had not only seen an apparition but it had just possessed her and had made her do a jig. Tom had said hi merrily to her before grabbing an apple off the counter and going on out the kitchen, leaving Marb to look at me with a startled expression. I returned it with one of my own confused looks before I heard the front door slamming shut and raced out the doorway to catch Tom, hearing Marb's tinkling chuckle follow me out the door.

"Nowhere in particular…why?" Tom says, all nonchalance, but I'm not buying it.

"Tom, you never just DO something. I know you a lot better than that and you always have an ulterior motive." I state and Tom regards me out the corner of his eye before taking a bite out of his apple, carrying on with his easy lope.

"God, Jerry, you make me sound like all I do is go out of my way is make myself and others miserable." He responds with his mouth full and I gape at him.

"Well…that's because you usually do, and it is usually my life you like to make miserable." I say and cross my arms over my chest, eyeing Tom suspiciously.

"Ouch. Okay, I deserved that and you're right, but I'm not always like that. If I tell you what I'm up too, will you let it drop?" Tom says turning to face me, pausing his stride. I stop next to him and look up at him into his face. He seems to be having a disagreement with himself because his face is a mash of emotions ranging from misery, depression, and elation like he is about to do something fantastic. The overall effect is just plain terrifying in my eyes knowing Tom as well as I do, but eventually I just sigh and nod my head.

"Okay then." Tom says before picking up his stride again. "You want to know what I'm up to? Well, sorry to disappoint, but I am not up to anything." I break my jog to keep up with Tom in surprise before I continue on playing a bit of catch up, trying to get a good look at his face. I can't really decipher what is exactly going on in Tom's head just from his outward expression, but I finally decide that he is not lying, although this brings up another question.

"Then why are you making me tag along?" I ask and Tom gives e another sideways glance before answering.

"Because…I wanted to hang out with someone today and you just so happen to be there." Tom says in a nearly platonic voice, but I am so beyond thought to really notice. Who the hell is this person? I regain a bit of cool, but ,considering the smirk on Tom's face, he noticed just how much what he said had shocked me.

"Don't flatter yourself too much. I said because you were there, not because I sought you out over anyone else." Tom remarks with a grating dominance in his voice. It strains my nerves to not snark back, but instead of responding, I just turn around and start heading back towards the boarding house.

"Hey, where are you going?" Tom asks, stopping his pace to turn around and look back at my retreating figure.

"I'm heading back to the boarding house. No one said I wanted to 'hangout' with you. I have better things to do than get antagonized by you all day." I throw back, not even turning back around to see how Tom reacts. I hear the strum of footsteps as Tom races to catch up with me. We are back in front of the rotting exterior of the boarding house before he finally catches up and catches my shoulder, making me stop.

"Hey look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to get on your nerves or anything; you know that's just how I am. Please, come on, I did mean what I said earlier. I do want to be around you today." Tom says in a rush, still attempting to catch his breath after chasing after me. The notes of sincerity make my gut twist in guilt and I breathe out a sigh and turn around to face him. The expression on his face is priceless. Just enough desperation in there to make him look downright pitiful…but there is also something else that I can't quite decipher in his expression, pooling beneath his eyes, yet not quite close enough to the surface to be clearly seen. I give in, but not without laying down some ground rules.

"Fine." I say, giving in, and I see the surprised look on Tom's face before he gives me a smile. I shake my head a little. I know there is some ulterior motive to all this, but I just can't quite place it yet.

We ended traipsing around the downtown area with no particular place set in mind. After we walked around like idiots for about an hour, we gave up and the both of us plopped down onto a bench with Tom sitting in a position where his legs are draped over the back and his head hangs down almost to the sidewalk, his hands resting on his stomach. About thirty minutes later and we still haven't come up with any ideas as to what we could do.

"What about Spike's shop?" I suggest, but Tom gives me a pained look that says he would rather stab his eyes out with jagged sticks rather than do that.

"Spike and I don't really get along if you hadn't noticed." Tom says a little strained.

"That's because you always had a problem with listening to anyone who had a bit of authority over you." I say looking down at him and Tom gives me another pained look out of the corner of his eye.

"Of course you would say that. You're perfect. Spike never had any problems with you but god forbid he give someone else a chance." Tom spits out. I roll my eyes.

"Tom, he gave you chances, plenty of them as a matter of fact. You always just threw them back in his face though. What was he supposed to do?" I retort back before I realize that it may not have been the best course I could have taken.

"What else was_ I _supposed to do? How was I supposed to even compare to you in his eyes?" he yells out at me abruptly before he realizes what he has said. He had scrambled stood up during his outburst to tower over me, the scene drawing a few passerby's attention. He lets out a huff and sits back down onto the bench. "You know what? I don't give a shit what he thinks or what you think." He murmurs under his breath. I know for certain that is a lie as plain and true as Pinnochio's nose, but I just let it go. No point in poking a bear. We sit there in awkward silence for about five more minutes before Tom lets out a gasp, drawing my attention. He has an excited look on his face and he stands up and looks down at me.

"I know where we can go." He states in a voice as excited as he looks. He pulls me up and then races off, leaving me to play catch up once again.

**To me, this chapter fell a little short. I think I made Tom act a little too out of character, as well as Jerry, but don't worry! That shall be fixed in the next chapter. Also, a severe thank you to **_**esmeralda kitty cat**_** for all the encouragement she has gave me! Any criticism or comments are greatly appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 6

**I am so sorry I took so long getting another chapter up. School does get in the way…but anyways, if anyone is still reading, I hope you enjoy! **

"Tom, just where the heck are we going?" I ask, pretty much being drug along through bunches of people in the square at this point.

"You'll see." Tom answers vaguely, a mischievous smile gracing his face. The grip tightens on my arm and he begins dragging me along faster. I guess I'll just have to go along with it, I think with a sigh. We pass through a couple of dingy alleyways, the type of people at the exit of each one gradually changing from milling window shoppers to rough looking men. I smell the place long before we get there.

"The ports?" I ask incredulously as we arrive at our destination through a narrow passage between two buildings. We are standing behind a couple of deteriorating crates that are wedged beside two brick buildings that had once been factories. From where we exited from the passage, we have a pretty clear view of everything that is going on at the docks, from large crates being pulled off shippers, to the few tents that grace the area selling "fresh" fish. From just about any other vantage point besides our own, we're not too conspicuous.

"Yeah. Don't you remember? We used to get in so much trouble over here..." Tom trails off, his voice a bit tense. He really is trying, isn't he? "I thought we could just hang around here for a bit…like old times." He glances at me through his shaggy blue-grey hair, his green eyes deep with what looks to be a bit of hope.

I glance around and with an inward sigh I sit down on top of one of the crates we are next to and lean my back against another that is stacked behind it. Tom takes this as a sign of me agreeing and he props himself up on the crates across from me. The way we are situated, we are facing the docks more than each other.

"Okay…so what do you want to talk about?" I ask, and Tom seems a bit taken aback by my question. He scratches his head a bit then shoots me a grin.

"Well, actually, I thought that you could tell me about your memories of this place because all I really remember is being pushed off the dock and into the water." He says with a chuckle in his voice and I let out a laugh.

"I remember…it was the only way to get you to stop pestering me though, so it was your own fault." I reply still chuckling a bit.

"What? Me? Why I'd never…" Tom answers back with mock innocence and I laugh a little more. We continue this back and forth banter for a while, jumping from our memories of the docks, to memories of the boarding house, and so on and so forth. Tom even opens up a bit to my questions, which surprises me a fraction. By the time we are brought back to reality, most of the ships have left and the sun is setting over the horizon.

"Hey, you boys better get out of here soon, the fences will be closing and you don't want to get trapped in here after dark." A gruff looking man warns us, noticing us out of the corner of his eye, breaking into our little world we had created over by the crates. Both of us snap out of it and take a glance around.

"Yeah, he's right, we should probably get moving." Tom concurs, standing up and stretching. I get up a bit stiffly to before following Tom out the way we came, casting a slightly last glance back at the ports.

The walk back home is still filled with fun jesting. Actually, I'm relatively sure I am going to have bruises on my arm for months from how much Tom keep elbowing me right in my shoulder. As we are turning the corner though, on the homeward run for the boarding house, Tom freezes then roughly shoves me into a nearby alleyway.

"What the hell Tom…" I begin before he throws a hand over my mouth. He looks me in the eyes with the most serious gaze I have ever seen don his face and raises his pointer finger on his other hand up to his lips in the universal sign that tells me to shut up. He let's go of my mouth and points out back towards the street, so I peek out and have a look. I look out onto the street in the direction we were walking in and that's when I see them.

Butch and Toodles are walking down the street, Toodles' thin arms wrapped around one of Butch's. She leans up and gives Butch a peck on the cheek, her pale, blonde hair wisping across her delicate features as she does so. I understand now. I feel a pressure on my shoulder and that is when I realize Tom has come to stand next to me to watch the spectacle and had placed a hand on my shoulder in the process, which is tightening its grip with every passing second. I look up at Tom's face over my shoulder. His face is flushed with anger and his eyes are glazed. His green eyes are shining dangerously. He looks as if he is about to break cover and just blind side Butch and beat the crap out of him, Toodles nearby or not. That's when I decide that we've seen enough.

"Come on." I whisper, breaking Tom out of his rage induced thoughts and making him remember I was still there. I take the hand that's on my shoulder and grab the wrist, pulling Tom away from the scene and out the back of the alleyway. As we are taking a back route to get to the boarding house I glance over at Tom. He's walking with a slouch, his hands thrust into his pockets, his hair grazing over his eyes, completely hidden behind the veil, his mouth set in a grim line. Well, there went that fun mood.

It takes us a little longer to get back to the boarding house, the sun already set and the moon just starting its journey through the sky. The whole time since, we walked in silence, any joviality of the day gone, as well as Tom's good mood. Since we went around the back way to get home, we have to enter through the garden gate in the backyard. I open the little clip that holds the gate to the fence and it creaks open with years of rust and weather. Tom grazes past me without a word and I close the gate back, placing the clip back the way it was and follow Tom inside, the backdoor closing gently behind us.

Since the back door leads into the kitchen, we pass through, only for me to run into Tom's back at the doorway, him seeming to be rooted in place. I look around him and I am greeted with a scene I haven't seen for a long time. Marb is passed out on the couch, a thin blanket draped across her. The room is almost completely dark, not even the TV on to provide a little light, but the little moonlight streaming in from the window offers just enough for us to get the gist of the scene.

Marb, when we were bit younger, used to wait up at night for us to get back, and would almost always pass out on the couch before we got home. It's been a while though…since Tom and I had done anything together than just stay out of each other's way, so it's been a while since this scene has been seen. Anytime Tom and I stayed out past dark, Marb could almost always be found the passed out on the couch, no matter if it was midnight or only eight o'clock. Tom and I had always felt a bit guilty afterwards when we got back home after seeing we had worried Marb… even if Tom wouldn't admit it. I could always see it in his eyes that he felt sorry for making her worry so much.

I take a quick glance over at the taller boy. There is just enough light that I can see a slight smile gracing his face, but his eyes are still covered with his hair. I feel myself smile as well and look back towards Marb. Suddenly, Tom grabs my arm and starts dragging me up the stairs. We reach the top, me tripping a few times, but Tom is still pulling me along, past my apartment and towards his. I go to ask him what the hell he's doing, but instead, I just decide to see what happens. Tom hasn't done anything bad yet, so I'll give him some slack.

He opens the door and continues to drag me through his apartment. I can see all the mess from the other night has been cleaned up amazingly well, especially considering the state it had been in. Tom continues to pull me along, all the way into his room. He releases my arm and makes his way over to a lamp that is situated near his bed on a small nightstand. He turns it on and the light fills the room with a dim glow. He then comes back over to me; a grin plastered on his face, and grabs my shoulders and makes me sit down on the foot of his bed. I just know the look on my face is just one of the purest expressions of confusion.

"Wait here." Tom says with that classic mischievous smirk on his face before he quickly exits the room and closes the door gently behind him, leaving me alone in his room. Well…shit.

**I shall have another chapter up shortly, in the next two days or so at least. I don't know, to me, this chapter seems to be missing something…but I just can't place my finger on it. I also tried to fix Tom's behavior, but I don't think it worked out so well. _ Thanks to everyone who favorite and reviewed, I am eternally grateful. Happy reading!**


	8. Chapter 7

**See! I did not lie to you this time! I actually got another chapter up by the time I said! Hope you enjoy…**

Tom comes in a few minutes later, sneaking back into the room with something hid behind his back. By now, my curiosity is beyond peaked and I just have to ask.

"Okay, what is it?" Tom gives me a devious grin before revealing what appears to be an old photo album from behind his back. Without saying a word, he shoves it into my hands and plops down onto the bed next to me. I look at the worn cover, which is a deep red color, and look at the stitching on the front that reads "_My Family" _in gold thread. I look at Tom, but he just motions for me to open it up. I breathe out a sigh then take the corner of the cover in my hand and I flip it over. What is on the first page shocks me enough to make my jaw drop.

It's a picture of us. Of ALL of us. The picture appeared to have been taken in front of the boarding house, the paint looking less worn and weather beaten. The colors in the photograph are a bit faded, but not too much. It is a picture of Tom and I when we were younger, our arms around each other's shoulders, big grins of amusement on our faces while we hold matching popsicles in our other hands. We are dead center in the picture, sitting on the steps of the front porch. Our mothers are crouched behind us, Tom's mother behind him and my mother behind me, both of them smiling as brightly as I have ever seen either of them smile, their arms around us. Spike is standing on the ground beside us, a woman held in his arms. I gather that it is his wife, with a surprise realization, and I gaze at them as they stare back with loving, adoring looks on their faces as they gaze at each other. It is the perfect picture.

I barely remember when this picture was taken, but the memory is still there. This was the summer after we had moved in. Spike and his wife had moved in shortly after us, but even so, they were assimilated into our ragtag group of wayfarers as soon as they introduced themselves. This was back when things were…well, back when things were good. Tom and I had only just established our war and peace relationship. I begin to remember a bit more now. I remember the taste of summer through the popsicles, the sounds of fun through laughter, and the sights of happiness with everyone smiling and having a bright time.

"I remember too." Tom says suddenly, breaking me out of my reverence. I cast a glance over at him only to find him looking back at me with a small, nostalgic smile. He casts his gaze back down to the album in my lap and turns the page. The photographs are all mixed in, memories of different years. Old, time stained photos of people who I don't recognize are mixed in with more recent pictures of our small little family at the boarding house. We keep flipping through pages and pages and pages of photos, flipping through what seem like lifetimes, until we get to the very last page which contains only one single picture and a note. Tom grabs the note out, but I continue looking at the picture, my eyes glazing over a bit.

It's a picture of Tom and I that apparently had been taken when we were younger, but without either of us realizing it. We are around the age of thirteen in the picture, I think, back when Tom and I were still pretty close. We are sitting on the couch in the living room, our profiles turned towards the camera. I seem to be attempting to explain something to Tom by the way my hands are paused in a great gesture and the look on my face is one of incredulity. Tom, on the other hand, seems to be just chuckling at me, his face alight with amusement. Even though I don't remember what that particular conversation was about, it still reminds me of all the times when Tom and I used to be able to just hang out and talk, just like we did today. It makes me sad to think about it, but soon I am pulled out of my mind when I realize Tom is still flipping the folded note around in his hands, eyeing it curiously.

"Aren't you going to open it?" I ask. Tom gives me a look of annoyance, but complies, unfolding the note carefully. I lean over closer to get a better look.

_Dear Thomas,_

_ I know you've been stealing my picture book. All you had to do was ask for it and I would have handed it over. These are your memories as much as mine._

_ With love, _

_ Marb _

I had already assumed that this was Marb's album, but it hadn't quite donned on me that Tom may have "borrowed" this book before, but thinking back on it, how exactly else would he had known where it was? I look up to ask him, and that is when I realize just how close I am to him.

My nose is about an inch from his. I start back a little in surprise, but Tom doesn't move. In fact, he seems almost frozen. His eyes are fluent in what seem to be a thousand emotions, each flitting across his gaze as he stares at me. I had never really thought about it before…but… Tom's eyes were actually quite…startling. It's not quite the right word for it, but my mind is starting to pull a blank. For what seems to be an eternity, we just sit there and look at each other, his gaze piercing me in place, and all I can do is stare back. I'm so close; I can smell the musky scent drifting off of him in small wafts, the same familiar scent I have only gotten small doses of over the years. Tom breaks the trance first.

"It's getting pretty late." Tom says a bit tensely, pushing himself away from me. I can tell he wants to add more, but I don't push it, already feeling as if I have already overstayed my welcome. I stand up and walk out of the bedroom and out of the apartment, leaving Tom sitting on his bed, the photo album closed next to him. I gently close the door behind me and make my way back to my apartment in a daze. I finally make it all the way back to my room and find my way over to my bed, closing the door gently behind me. Only when I am sitting on the edge of my bed in the darkness do I allow myself to think again, a ton of thoughts filling my consciousness, but only a couple sticking out in particular.

'_What the hell was that?' _I think to myself, resting my head in my hands. I think back on the scene, still very fresh in my mind, and I can't make sense of it. I think about how Tom smelled and I smile a bit, but I realize what I am doing and stop myself. What am I doing? I groan inwardly to myself and lean all the way back onto my bed and just stare out my window, moonlight drifting in lazily. I sigh and pull myself under the covers, only bothering to take off my shoes before I rest my head on my thin pillow and begin to drift off, my thoughts still pondering. Pondering over listless imaginings and daydreams.

**So what did you guys think? Tom and Jerry are fighting the love…their fighting it! But that's okay…I'm about to start throwing some *ahem* kinks in there, so they better get their act together, and soon. Also, thanks to everyone who has kept up with this fiction and reviewed! Special thanks goes to **_**esmeralda kitty cat**_**…thank you so much for all your support!**__**Happy reading!**


	9. Chapter 8 part 1

**Haha! I finally got another chapter up! Sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long. Hope you enjoy!**

I jerk awake, startled by a loud noise in the middle of the night. I bolt straight up in bed, staring wide-eyed out into the darkness of my room. I sit there for a second, trying to decipher the location of the sound. It sounded a bit like breaking glass…it takes me a second to put two and two together in my sleep deprived state, but finally, it clicks. Tom. I scramble out of bed and rush through my apartment, stubbing my toe on the doorway and letting out a half-assed curse as I finally make it into the hallway. I manage to get to Tom's apartment, but once I'm there, I hesitate in front of the closed door.

Why am I doing this? Tom has done shit like this before and I used to just leave him alone until the after math. Tom was just too unpredictable when it came to his rages. Unfortunately for me though another shatter of glass resounds from the room, cementing my decision. I clasp a sweaty palm on the doorknob and turn it. I open the door slowly, bracing myself for anything that might be headed my way.

The door swings open silently and I step carefully into the living room. I look around for a second and I am surprised. Everything seems to look okay…at least in here. I pick my way through the room and manage my way towards Tom's room with minimal noise. His door is closed, once I am finally in front of it, and once again, I have to decide. I breathe out a long sigh and open the last barrier.

The door opens with a slight creak and I cringe at the sound. Once the door is open enough, I peak around it to get a good look into the room before I fully enter. The room is a bit of a mess, a parallel to the living room last time, just not as bad. I see Tom standing off near the window, his back turned towards me just enough to where I can't see his face. I open the door all the way. Tom still doesn't look up.

I enter and close the door behind me with a soft click. I stand there for an awkward second afterwards, trying to figure out just what to do or what to say, but nothing really comes to mind. Well, I've came way too far to just back out now.

"Tom…are you okay?" I ask, my voice cutting through the silent, cool air. He doesn't respond. I shiver a bit. Wow, his room wasn't this cold earlier. I take a tentative step forward, then another until I am about halfway to Tom. He still hasn't looked up or said anything. I'm beginning to wonder if he is even aware I'm here.

"Tom, say something." I say as I take another step forward. I'm close enough now that I can see the window and part of his face. The window has been completely broken out. There is a smattering of shattered glass on the ground intermixed with small, dark blotches, which I presume to be blood.

"Tom what did you do?" I mutter under my breath as I step closer to him until I am pretty much right in front of him. He still doesn't answer me, his gaze fixed translucently through the window. The moon glints off his face and I can tell that he was crying at some point or another, the trails of the tears outlining his face. Other than that though, he seems lifeless. I look down at his hands. His right hand has drops of blood dripping from it and down onto the carpet, staining it. Without another word, I take his left hand and lead him into the nearby bathroom, meeting no resistance.

I close the lid to the toilet and sit him down on it. I shuffle around the small room for a second looking for the antiseptic and cotton balls. I find them and set them on the counter. I take out a cotton ball and soak it with the solution, crinkling my nose at the foul smell. I crouch down with the soaked cotton ball in one hand and grab Tom's bleeding hand with the other. I take one last glance up at him, but he just stares into space. I start to dab it on and Tom lets out a hiss. I look up in surprise, to find a pair of brutal eyes staring back down at me.

His eyes soften with recognition when he figures out where he is and what's going on. He slumps back in quiet resignation and I continue on with my chore. Questions run through my mind as I finish and put the supplies up and take to searching for a bandage. I finally find one in one of the cabinets and start wrapping Tom's hand, holding it gently in mine, lost in the easy task.

"I can't do it." Tom whispers so softly and so suddenly that I'm not actually sure I heard anything at all. I look up from what I am doing and what I find is a pair of eyes hidden behind hair.

"I can't do it." He repeats his mouth almost imperceptibly moving.

"Can't do what?" I ask, anxiety making my voice lilt slightly.

"I can't…I can't…" He struggles with the words. The frustration shows clearly on his face, even though his eyes are hidden. He takes a deep breath and pauses for a second before releasing it. He looks up through his hair and straight at me, his eyes teary but eerily focused.

"I can't… control myself." He finally manages out. I just stare back at him, trying to comprehend what he has just told me, but my thoughts are way too scattered. Then, he leans forward almost imperceptibly and stuns any thoughts I had into submission when he presses his lips so lightly against mine it is almost as if it didn't happen...

**Cliff hangers, don't you just love them? Just continue reading on to the next part, all will be revealed soon. Thanks to the amazing people that reviewed, you guys are spectacular! Happy reading! **


	10. Chapter 8 part 2

…and then I wake up. I shift around for a second in bed disoriented before I sit up. My room is filled with sunlight that is streaming in through my window, the day looking bright. I glance around my room a bit dazed and confused, my thoughts still muddled from the dream. I keep sitting there for a few more minutes, just trying to calm my rapid breathing and straighten out my thoughts. Just what the hell was THAT?

I start going over the dream in my head, and then with a groan I fall back down on my bed, grinding the palms of my hands into my eyes, trying to get the images out of my head. I let my hands fall beside my head on my pillow and just stare up at the water- stained ceiling.

The dream had seemed so real. Way to real. I think about it for a second, but then I concur that there was no way that it could have been real. If the dream had been heading anywhere where I think it was going, then I wouldn't have woken up in MY bed this morning. I'm not sure if this is a comfort though.

There's no way I can face Tom today, I realize with a slight start and sit up again. Nope. No way. Not a possibility. I have to at least wait until this dream blows over. I fall back again with another groan. Fantastic. Now I get to spend today avoiding Tom. Not exactly what I would call a prime way of spending a Sunday.

I finally get up out of bed and make my way to my bathroom, where I go about my duties, attempting not to think about anything, which results in me setting the water way to hot and slipping on the cold tiled floor when I jump out of the shower because of it. Now I have a bump on the back of my head where it hit the edge of the bathtub. Wow, I can tell today is simply going to be perfect.

I slip on some clothes and throw on my coat, not in any kind of mood anymore and already wishing the day was over. Then as quietly as I can, I slip out of my apartment and take a glance down towards Tom's. The door is closed. Good, then maybe he is still asleep and I can slip out of the house unnoticed. Unfortunately for me though, as soon as I go to take a step forward I run straight into Marb.

"Jeremiah, are you okay?" Marb asks, all cares and worries, her colorful head scarf contrasting brilliantly with her dark hair.

"Oh, I'm just heading downstairs." I say quickly. She gives me a look and shakes her head.

"Jerry, I know exactly when someone is trying to avoid someone else, but I guess that's your and Tom's business I suppose." She says and then begins walking off back downstairs. "Well, I came up here to see if all was well and tell you I left you some breakfast in the microwave."

"Thanks Marb." I manage and start heading towards the staircase again, but Marb stops me again.

"Oh yes, one more thing Jeremiah. Tell Tom to return whatever he took last night. Lord knows he wasn't discreet about it." She says and with a warm, knowing smile, before disappearing down the stairwell. I stand there for a surprised second before I shake it off and continue my journey to make it down the staircase. Unfortunately for me though, I hit my second obstacle at the end of them.

"Whoa, what's the rush Jerry?" Spike asks me with a slight humor in his voice, completely blocking my path in the small stairwell. I groan internally. Am I really just going to run into everyone today? Did I do something absolutely horrible and this is my retribution?

"Umm, nothing. I'm just headed downstairs to grab some breakfast and head out." I strain out, trying to keep my voice even. Spike stops smiling and instead takes up to examining me closely.

"Is something wrong Jerry?" He asks, bending down to my height and looking me straight in the face. Well…shit.

"No. Nothing is wrong." I state, hoping the lie doesn't sound as obvious to him as it does to me. I'm starting to sweat under his discerning gaze as he goes over my words, but eventually, he stands up and lets me pass by, but not without taking one last look over his shoulder at me before heading on his way. You know, sometimes I wish I was more like Tom. At least then people wouldn't bother me as much. I think this a bit pessimistically before I realize exactly what I am saying and shake the words out my head. No, I don't wish that. I love every single one of them, and even if I do want some more privacy every once in a while, I wouldn't want to change anything.

I finally make it downstairs and I am greeted with a sight that I thought I would never see. You know, I must have done something terrible in past life and I'm paying for it now because absolutely nothing is going according to plan.

Both Tom AND Nibbles are sitting on the couch and talking with each other light heartedly, the TV on a random channel to provide background noise. Tom notices me first out of the corner of his eye and looks over the back of the couch to give me a wide grin. Nibbles notices and turns around and gives me his classic toothy smile.

"Good morning Jerry!" Nibbles exclaims, and with it, any chance I'd had of escaping the house unscathed today.

**Teehee, well…I thought it had been a while since we had seen Nibbles so…here you go. Happy reading!**


	11. Chapter 9

**Sorry it's been a while since I updated. You know,*insert excuse here*, so I haven't really had a chance to post this chapter up until now. Hope you enjoy!**

"Hey Jerry." Tom says nonchalantly as he absent-mindedly picks at the threading of the ancient couch.

"Good morning! Come on!" Nibbles says enthusiastically as he motions for me to come over and join them. I go over to the old chair that sits across from the couch and plop down into it, a load creak issuing from it as I do so. As soon as I sit down, they return to their talking, which I listen to listlessly. Well…Tom also seems to be doing more listening than talking also, Nibbles going off on tangents that are difficult to follow for just about anyone. I just kind of watch them out of the corner of my eye, stuck in my own head, not really paying much attention. Tom, on the other hand, actually seems to be trying to keep up with what Nibbles is saying, much to the other boy's elation. Good luck with that one, I think with a smirk, when Tom takes notice of me and smiles at me with a devious grin.

"So, Jerry, what took you so long to get down here?" Tom asks me directly, still smirking. My mind stops at that moment, along with my breathing.

"Yeah, Jerry, what took you so long?" Nibbles echoes Tom since he was interrupted from his monologue. They both look at me expectantly. I sweat profusely under their gazes, especially when the memory of the dream comes back into my mind at full throttle.

"I had a nightmare." I choke out, hoping they don't really notice my bluff. Well…at least it isn't a total lie.

Nibbles, as oblivious as ever, just takes my words at face value, but Tom on the other hand gives me a weird look. Eventually though, he just lets it drop and goes back to listening to Nibbles' chatter, looking at me out of the corner of his eye every once in a while. I breathe out a sigh. As I continue to just sit there and listen to Nibbles carry on, I relax a bit. This isn't too bad. I mean, at least the random stream of words coming from Nibble's mouth is keeping my mind distracted. Of course though, Tom has to go too far.

"So," Tom interrupts Nibbles "do either of you two have girlfriends?" Both Nibbles and I are a bit taken aback by the question, but unfortunately Nibbles answers before I can recover to do so.

"No." He states simply. Tom just nods his head for a second and leans back against the couch a little bit more, examining Nibbles.

"Really?" Tom asks "Is that why you go after Jerry?" My mouth drops open. Nibbles doesn't seem to know exactly what to say because his words come out in flustered clumps. Tom laughs a bit harshly.

"I was just kidding. Lighten up you two, would ya'?" Tom says with a chuckle and thumps Nibbles on the back good naturedly. Nibbles, on the other hand, just sits there, his entire face hidden behind his sandy hair, although telling from the tips of his ears which poke out just enough to be seen, he is blushing something bad. His hands tighten into fists in his lap. Tom finally notices this reaction and stops laughing, his face instead taking up one of surprise.

Then, abruptly, Nibbles stands up and glares down at Tom, tears in his eyes. This shocks both of us. Then, without saying a word, he turns and goes through the front door, slamming it shut behind him with a crash. Tom and I look at each other in surprised silence for a second before I scramble up to chase after Nibbles, leaving Tom behind.

I finally catch up to him about halfway down the street. I walk next to him silently as he angrily wipes his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. It is not long though before we both hear a familiar voice calling after us along with the pounding rhythm of footsteps.

Tom catches up to us with a rush of brisk air following him. Nibbles stops walking, so I pause to stand next to him. He doesn't turn around to face Tom, but I turn slightly so I can see the both of them. Tom takes his chance to get a word in. Unfortunately...it doesn't go well.

"Look Nibbles, I'm sorry if I said anything, but that's no reason to…" Tom starts, but he is interrupted by a fist connecting squarely with his nose, making his head snap back. I look in shock at Nibbles, the normally happy, oblivious boy, but all I see is seething hatred and glares. Tom recovers and doesn't take a second to retaliate. I see his fist coming long before Nibbles does, so of course I do the only thing I can think of.

Tom's fist connects with my face as I step in front of Nibbles, it hooking my cheek and making me stumble slightly backwards as waves of pain cascade through, setting every nerve on fire. Sure, I've been punched by Tom before, but I don't usually take a full hit like that…and usually not to the face. I look up at Tom, as I regain my balance, the pain increasing as I steady myself. Tom looks back down at me in stunned horror, his green eyes filled with guilt. I just look back with a cold glare, before I turn to face Nibbles, who is also looking at me in shock. I take his arm and lead him away, leaving Tom behind once again. This time though, he doesn't try to follow.

We end up at the park. We sit silently on the swing set, any children long since gone from the area because of the overcast skies. The sky darkens and the wind picks up as we continue to sit there, but the silence between us just draws out. I sneak glances over at Nibbles every once in a while, but all I see is a face hidden behind a mass of shaggy, unkempt hair. I finally decide to break the dead-air since it looks like Nibbles isn't going to be doing it anytime soon.

"So…mind telling me what that was about?" I ask, gazing over at Nibbles. He doesn't respond, but instead just tightens his grip on the chains of the swing he sits on and sets his jaw. After a while of silence though, he finally speaks.

"I hate them." He whispers, more to himself it seems than to me. "I hate them." It is a bit unnerving to see this usually bright kid so downcast. Suddenly he looks up at me, his face one of sharp clarity and focus. One I don't recognize.

"Jerry…you know what it is like. To be tortured because you are simply just smaller." He says in a deadly serious voice. "Unfortunately though, that is where our similarities end." I just keep staring at him, entranced by the somber tones in his voice. He sighs before continuing.

"I tried to take your advice Jerry. I tried not to let them bother me. I tried, oh god knows I tried, but in the end, I'm just not you."

I continue staring at him until I find my voice.

"Nibbles…what I told you was a lie." I look him straight in the eye as I say this. Hurt can be seen clearly in his eyes, but it is quickly replaced with anger.

"Why?" he seethes out. I'm a bit surprised by his tone but I continue.

"What people say, what people do, it affects me more than I would like to say…I lied because sometimes the truth is depressing and isn't just a bitch to hear, but a bitch to say." Nibbles eyes narrow, trying to decide just how honest I'm being, but eventually his eyes soften. He tears his gaze away from me and instead takes to examining his tattered sneakers.

"I don't know what came over me. Just sometimes enough is enough you know? What Tom said didn't even matter that much to me…it was just another thing I had to brush off, but…something just snapped. All the horrible things I've ever had to just 'brush off' came back suddenly and hit me and well…you know." He trails off and I smile at him in understanding when he looks up at me. We both gaze forward now, out onto the empty street, lost in our own thoughts before Nibbles says something.

"Just so you know, it wasn't the gay thing that set me off…I could care less…it's just that, after a while, being called something you're not gets on your nerves a bit, especially in that demeaning tone…this…this isn't coming out right!" Nibbles yells in frustration, and I can't help it. I chuckle a bit. Nibbles stops his struggling for a second before he begins laughing as well. We end up laughing and talking until the street lights come on.

After a while though, we finally decide to head back home, the only light guiding us that of the streetlamps. We walk, Nibble's taking up most of the silence with his chatter, not that I mind. It's good to see he got what's bothering him off his chest. As we near our respective houses though, he quiets down and stops us in front of his.

"Hold up Jerry." He says and I pause my stride. He looks awkwardly at me before hastily wrapping his arms around me and giving me a hug. He quickly retracts and steps back.

"Thanks Jerry…for everything." He says, his tone serious again and I can't help but smile. The day-dreaming boy I've known all these years is being replaced, but I guess that isn't necessarily a bad thing. I turn around and start walking off back towards the boarding house, not saying anything, but throwing a wave behind me to let Nibbles know everything is back to normal.

"Bye Jerry!" he calls after me before I hear his front door closing behind him with a gentle slam. I walk up to the boarding house and look up at it. You know, it doesn't look so bad…or maybe it's because it's dark out, I think with a small smile on my face before I walk inside, the black interior greeting me with a rush of musty warm air and familiar smells.

**So, what did you guys think? I know a lot of you were probably pissed at me for the last few chapters I posted, but I mean come on…they weren't that bad were they? Which reminds me…I have to ask you all something. Are you looking for this fiction to go into the M rating and getting kind of racy or keeping it kind of vague and classy with a T rating? I just want everyone's opinion…I can really go either way, but I have to warn you. If you choose an M-rating, it will be my first time typing anything that explicit. Happy reading!**


	12. Chapter 10

**Oh dear lord…okay where to start? Okay first, a desperate sorry from me to anyone that is still following this story. I definitely took my time updating, didn't I? Second…I lied to you all. Again. This chapter does not contain the smut like I promised. There is a lot more I would like to say here, but instead of keeping you from the story, I'll cut off. Hope you enjoy this very late chapter!**

I stand for a second in the doorway to let my eyes adjust to the darkness before fully entering the boarding house. I close the front door softly behind me then take off my shoes so all I have on is my socks. I have no idea if everyone is asleep or not, but I don't want to take any chances.

I pad my way through the short entryway and around the corner into the living room where I am greeted with a surprise. The TV is on and casts its fuzzy blue glow around the room, throwing shadows in strange directions and blacking out the figure that sits on the couch. I can only make out the silhouette of the person, but that is all I need to know who it is…as if I couldn't guess.

I silently walk over so I am standing right behind the worn, sagging frame of the couch. I let an evil smile take over my face as I continue standing there, a thought playing around in my mind. I have the insane urge to scare the shit out of Tom, and you know what? I think I will. It's time for a little pay back

I lean over the back of the couch so my mouth is level with his ear. I remember all the times I used to do this when we were younger. Tom had learned real quickly that it was not safe to sleep out in the open with me around. I grin a little wider when Tom still doesn't notice my presence, so I take this as my go ahead.

"Boo." I whisper loudly into his ear, then jump back, waiting for a spectacular reaction, but…it doesn't come. I straighten up from my defensive position and walk tentatively back over so I am standing behind the couch again. I lean over the back, except this time, far enough so I can see Tom's face. Well…that figures.

He's passed out. A line of drool trails from his mouth and down his chin. I blow out a sigh. Well, there goes that plan. I start back towards the stairway, but halt mid-step as I glance back over my shoulder at Tom asleep on the couch. I turn around with a silent groan and tread back over to the worn couch and nestle down as gently as possible on the opposite side from Tom as not to disturb him. I don't know why I feel obliged to keep Tom company, even though he is passed out, but I do.

Once I am settled with my legs pulled up onto the couch, I allow myself to sink into the threadbare cushions and relax, watching TV with what used to be my best friend. Just like old times.

After a while, I allow my gaze to wander from the television and settle upon Tom who is still peacefully asleep on the other end. His head is tilted to the side, cradled in one of his hands. He is still in a sitting position, one leg on the ground and the other pulled up onto the couch, held up by his other arm whose hand precariously still holds the TV remote loosely in its grasp.

I hadn't realized it before by just leaning over the back of the couch, but now I see Nibbles had really clocked Tom a good one. Dark rings circle underneath his eyes and his nose has a line of dark purple going across the bridge. All of this is emphasized by the harsh glare coming from the television. I smirk a little. Well…Tom had it coming… although he didn't necessarily deserve the full force that was behind that punch. Unfortunately for me, seeing Tom's bruises reminds me of my own. The single bruise on my cheek begins to ache something fierce. I bring a hand up to touch it, but recoil shortly upon contact with a wince. Well…great. It feels a bit swollen as I continue to probe at it, but I am soon brought out of my world by a raspy voice.

"I'm sorry." Tom manages out and I turn my focus sharply on him. I don't know how long he has been awake, but he's apparently been aware long enough to have seen me poking at the bruise on my face and to have wiped the trail of spit off his chin. I continue to just look at him waiting for more, but it doesn't come. I should have expected this. I let out a sigh before talking.

"Why are you apologizing?" I look him right in the eye. "You never have before…" I allow myself to trail off. Tom glares at me before his gaze softens and he looks away and back at the television.

"I know…" he pauses a second before swallowing his pride, which is very visible by the expression on his face. "And for that, I'm also sorry." Apologizing has never come easy for Tom, if our childhood is any testament to that.

Every time Tom would get in trouble, he would rather take the punishment than apologize. No matter how much Marb would scold him, or Spike for that matter, he would take the punishment for his crime instead of just sucking it up and saying a simple sorry. Must have something to do with that ego of his.

I think for a second. You know what though? I have let Tom get off too easy for too long. I'm sure as hell not going to do it now though.

"You really messed Nibbles up Tom." I venture. Once again, I get a stiff response.

"I'm sorry…" He trails off this time. By now, the apologies seem to almost be causing him physical pain. The look on his face is a mix of guilt, angst, and anger. Wish I could tell who the anger was directed at.

I just can't help it. All the resentment I've been bottling up for a while now just comes spilling out. Not just frustration at Tom though, but anger at…everything.

"Tom you just don't seem to get it! It is the same thing every fucking time! You think sorry is going to fix this?! It is a bit late for sorry! You have no idea what hell you've made everyone's lives! Not only is it my life you've screwed up, but Marb's and Spike's as well! Everyone always has to tip toe around you every single fucking day, just to keep you happy and that is how you show your appreciation?! By saying sorry?!" At some point during my yelling spree I stood up to tower over Tom who still sat on the couch looking up at me in surprise and hurt. Now that I've paused though, that hurt is quickly equaled with the same amount of anger.

"Did I ask for you all to tip toe around me? Did I ask for you all to go out of your way to show me kindness? No! I never fucking did! I'm so fucking sorry I've made all your lives a living hell! I don't know what the hell you want me to do about it though! What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't go back and change the fucking past! Don't you think I would have already if I could?!" Tom yells right back at me, standing up to glower down at me, but I stand my ground and glare right back up at him. We are right in each other's faces at this point, but I crumble a bit when the weight of Tom's words hit me. His green eyes glare at me with fury and pain as I relinquish mine and just stand back to stare back at him.

"I never asked you to try and change the past." I tone with a bit of hurt. Tom's harsh gaze topples at my words until his expression takes on a pained look.

Tom groans and collapses back down onto the couch and grinds the palms of his hands into his eyes in frustration.

"What are we doing Jerry?" Tom asks sincerely looking up at me, and for once I don't have an answer.

"I don't know." I say simply as I sit down on the couch next to him and lean back into the cushions, staring off into space. Tom follows suit and leans back as well with a sigh. We sit in silence beside each other like that for a while, just watching the random program on TV, calming down and gathering our thoughts. That is, until Tom chuckles out a small comment.

"Now that…" He trails off for a second. "Was more like old times." I give a small smile without looking over at him and nod my head in agreement.

…just like old times.

**So…what did you guys think? I know I took forever updating and I understand if you do not want to continue reading. It was funny…when I reread my previous chapters I actually found quite a few discrepancies in my story that I hadn't realized were there previously, so I would like to clarify.**

**Spike and his wife lived in the boarding house long before Jerry and Tom moved in. Also, the reason why Jerry found it difficult to recognize Spike's wife in the picture in chapter seven was because while she was alive, she liked to fade into the background. She was depressed because of all the pregnancy failures she had to endure. That, to me, gives her enough reason to not really be a big part of the social life of the boarding house and to only exist on the periphery of Jerry's memories. I might or might not go back and fix these mistakes. We shall see in time, but for right now, they have been amended…although there are probably other discrepancies that I have missed.**

**To anyone still reading this long and rambling afterword, thank you. Just…thank you. I hope everyone continues to follow the story that has so far. I have a reason why I took so long updating, but it is sort of personal, so I hope you take this apology at face value and excuse me for taking my time posting this chapter. Happy reading!**


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